


With Tears In My Eyes, I Begged You To Stay

by betweenclocks



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Credence Barebone Deserves Better, Credence definitely cries during sex and this will definitely be something I include, I'm still an absolute sucker for Credence and Graves though, M/M, When will Grindelwald arrive? Who knows?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 12:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13658766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweenclocks/pseuds/betweenclocks
Summary: Credence Barebone and Percival Graves meet in the same alleyway that Credence used to retreat to after blacking out. It holds so many memories for him. Slowly, he is trying to piece himself back together with the help of Graves', but sometimes these feelings feel un-reciprocated. Can Credence convince the only person he has ever admired to stay with him, or has Graves got other plans? Credence/Graves (Grindelwald)





	With Tears In My Eyes, I Begged You To Stay

“I can’t see your face.”

  
Graves stretched out his hands, settling upon Credence’s flushed cheeks.

  
“They’re wet – look at me.”

  
More forcefully, Graves pressed the pads of his fingers deeper into Credence’s face. Credence gave a weak sob; his body, though frail and bony, stood statue-like. He inclined his head to the right, darkness devouring his features once again.

  
“I said look at me,” whispered Graves. He caught the other side of Credence’s face with his thumb, gripping his cheeks so tightly that his lip curled. Still as he was, Graves’ strength easily overpowered Credence’s and within seconds Grave’s heated glare was burning straight into Credence’s tired and teary eyes. His life had been consumed with orders from his strict mother; long days walking the streets during the harsh, icy winters handing out Anti-Witch flyers were not easily forgotten. He fought to bury these memories for now, and tried to divert his gaze from Graves’ intense stare, but he was stopped when Graves suddenly withdrew his fingers from his face. Though his cheeks were stinging from the tight grip, he somewhat wished it had continued. They both stood in silence for a few moments, Credence taking deep, shaky breaths and Graves chest rising and falling so dramatically that Credence could feel the presence of his lungs both filling and emptying.

  
“What - do you want from me?” croaked Credence, struggling to keep his voice steady. He fell backwards slightly and slumped against the cold, wet brick wall.

  
“What we had, Credence…” coerced Graves, inadvertently stroking his calloused fingertips on his own coat cuff. “It was special.” Graves switched his gaze to Credence’s eyes, “It meant something.”

  
Credence felt anger bubbling inside his chest, radiating down his arms and legs. He tried to fight it – this wasn’t the time or the place. He needed to talk to Graves. He swallowed, and even though his throat felt tight and his limbs felt numb he took a weak breath and looked up to return Graves’ unfaltering gaze.

  
They stood in silence for a few moments more, until Graves reached out and cupped Credence’s chin. Credence felt a shiver replace the fiery anger in his stomach. His whole torso went cold, and his extremities lost their sense of feeling. If he didn’t already know that it was late autumn and he was pressing his body against a bitterly cold and slimy alleyway wall, he wouldn’t have been able to tell.

  
“I don’t want it to end like this,” Graves exhaled. He tightened his grip around Credence’s face, “I need you.”

  
Credence still didn’t speak, but his breathing fastened and his chest felt tighter.

  
“Think of all that we could be,” Graves coerced, taking a step closer to Credence and brushing his free hand against Credence’s ragged hair. He was so close that Credence could feel his arm against his.

  
Graves lent his free hand against the brick wall, trapping Credence. He lent his head towards his face and breathed, in a barely audible whisper, “this is what you want too.”  
This wasn’t a question. Credence felt Graves’ breath tickle his neck as he said it and closed his eyes, willing these desires stirring within his groin to stop. Whichever direction he looked, he saw a part of Graves. He wished that he felt claustrophobic and willed himself to feel disgusted, but to no avail. He felt his temperature rising and stifled a giggled, though whether it was a nervous laugh or an excited response, he didn’t know. Graves felt this change in Credence’s body – his stone-like posture softened slightly and his neck stopped resisting Grave’s touch.  
“See?” Graves moved his hand from Credence’s chin down his neck and onto his shoulder, not breaking the touch once. He squeezed his shoulder, feeling his bones as easily as he would if Credence wasn’t wearing several layers. He moved his fingers onto his collarbones again, gently stroking, and realised just how much weight Credence had lost since they first met.

  
“You’ve lost weight.”

  
Credence’s eyes met Graves’ again, and his heart felt like it was beating so fast that it would burst out of his chest. He took in a deep breath and let it steadily out, trying to calm his heart rate. “Nobody has mentioned it,” Credence murmured, pressing his back harder against the dank wall. “Nobody ever notices.” As he said it, he broke Graves’ gaze and stared down at the floor. Nobody ever mentioned his health or his wants.

  
“I do.”

  
Graves suddenly grasped Credence’s wrist and looked down at his palm. The flesh was pink with fresh wounds, and Graves tightened his grip. “You didn’t tell me about this.”  
Credence swallowed. He hated causing a fuss; he’d grown accustomed to being ignored and caring for himself.

  
“I’m not used to this,” Credence said in a small voice, “I never-”

  
“You do now.”

  
Graves guided his fingers from Credence’s wrist down into his hand. With the other hand pressed against the wall next to Credence’s pale face, Graves whispered, “I care about you.”

  
Credence, though inexperienced with expressing his emotions, looked up at once with so much force that he hit the back of his head against the wall behind him.

  
“Careful.”

  
Graves held the back of Credence’s head, fighting against pulling fistfuls of his greasy hair. “Did that hurt?”

  
“I’m fine.” Credence breathed, though his heart was in his throat, and his fingers had yet to regain feeling. He could feel Graves’ palm against his own, though, and relished in Grave’s manly, yet delicate, pressure.

  
Another minute passed in silence, with Graves’ squeezing Credence’s hand and his other dying to tug at his jet-black hair. Credence didn’t move. He couldn’t have moved an inch, even if he was threatened with his life. Never had he felt more alive than when he was with Graves, even if it was tucked away in a dimly lit alleyway during the early hours of the morning, with a graffitied, slimy brick wall dampening his only outdoor coat and the light, feathery rain making his hair sodden and stick to his forehead.

  
“I wish –” Credence began, but he felt his hand swing backwards as Graves’ let go and put his finger onto his lips.

  
“I know,” Graves exhaled. “I do too, but you know how it is around here. It wouldn’t be accepted. You know that we wouldn’t be accepted.”

  
Credence closed his eyes for a moment.

  
“What part of us?” he asked, although he knew the answer as he had asked the same question before.

  
“ _All of us._ ”

  
Before Credence could so much as take a breath, Graves leant forward and placed his lips onto Credence’s. An electric shock ran through his body, igniting the fire inside of his chest once again. Only this time, the fire was fuelled with passion and desire for something he knew his mother wouldn’t accept. The fire that caught his breath and made him stop in his tracks was usually the precursor to his blackouts, where he would wake up amongst a scene of destruction, covered in debris and dust. He would often run to this alleyway and hide when he woke up surrounded by chaos; if he was alone, he could pretend he was normal. Now, he was pressed against the grubby wall in that very same alleyway, his hands running through the hair of the only person he’s ever admired and his body temperature quickly climbing with every touch of Graves’ tongue against his. Graves, still pulling Credence into him, reached to his coat buttons and undid them. Credence could feel Graves’ muscles through his suit shirt and groped around his neck, trying to undo his tie. He’d never worn a tie. He’d never had the need to. His mother dressed him in second-hand, shrunken suit jackets and trousers that barely reached his ankle.

  
The thought of his mother made him stop returning Graves’ kisses, and his body tensed up again. The fire that burned so excitedly in his chest suddenly turned into hard rage, and he felt his teeth clench.

  
Graves looked down at Credence with a heated stare, which could be considered either a furious or passionate. He fully intended to continue on, despite what Credence was distracted by. He hid his annoyance well – he knew Credence wanted this, that he too wanted this, and that he needed this to gain more of his trust to get what he needed. However, the look on Credence’s face, paired with his leaking eyes and flushed cheeks, made Graves soften slightly. He caught himself looking into Credence’s eyes and reaching out to wipe away his tears.

  
“I- I’m,” hiccupped Credence, angrily mopped his face with his fists. “I’m sorry.”

  
“Credence…” Graves grabbed his fists, which were still forcefully wiping his tears, leaving pink marks on his cheeks from the vigour. “I know. It’s okay.”

  
Credence fought to regain his fists, trying to wipe his still crying eyes. The tears were coming thicker and faster, and he wondered if he would ever be able to stop.

  
“I said it’s okay,” Graves said softly, letting go of Credence’s fists and wiping his cheeks himself. “It’s okay.”

  
Part of Credence wanted to hit out at Graves.

  
_‘How dare he say it’s okay? He doesn’t know how it feels. I’m wrong, in all forms. I don’t work correctly. Mother was right, I am just a waste.’_ Credence thought angrily. But part of him wanted to be embraced, stroked, told it was indeed going to be okay. He couldn’t make up his mind, so he just stayed still; his back still sodden from the brick wall that, moments ago, he was so happy to be pressed against.

  
Graves also stayed silent, swaying slightly on the spot as he looked into Credence’s eyes. _‘How dare he say it’s okay… I’m wrong… Mother was right… A waste.’_ He closed his eyes for a moment, cutting off the connection between their minds. Graves took a deep breath, reasoning with himself. If he were to mention that he could read minds, it would cause a whole new issue. He needed Credence to trust him fully. He couldn’t tell him just yet.

  
Reopening his eyes and choosing his words carefully, he breathed, “I want to know everything about you, Credence.”

  
Tears still falling onto his cheeks, Credence motioned to his body. “You don’t mind that I look like this? That I am like this?” Credence spoke, though shakily.

  
“To me, it’s all I want,” Graves said in something between a short laugh and an exhale. Credence noticed Graves glance down at his watch.

  
“We’ll meet again soon?” Credence urged, almost begging. He reached out to grab Graves’ hand, but Graves’ withdrew it before he could even touch skin. Credence looked up at him, “Won’t we?” There was a definite tinge of pleading in his voice.

  
“Of course,” Graves’ spoke softly, smiling a smile that he had perfected – one that deep down was forced, but lit up his eyes and made his dimples pronounced.

  
This seemed to satisfy Credence, and he smiled back despite his blood-shot, watery eyes. He watched Graves as he turned and disappeared on the spot.


End file.
